Intermission

Why does nothing that feels like a solution have to do with the problem? I'm so happy I forgot about the plant for a couple of hours, like a fool. On some level, craziness becomes a strategy, but probably just when one goes nuts.

Cliff's starting a basketball game among the workers, so I accepted on a whim with great relief, and told myself I would thus throw Branley off. But Branley must at least know I leave the office with papers.

For one moment I couldn't leave the stable melancholy of the weekend.

Maybe I can convince Branley I'm a fool, and he'd better go away or ignore me. My photocopy logistics will get worse, but that's not a lawsuit in itself, and I can hardly imagine I will last long anyway.